Serpent Surprise
by MissMahjong
Summary: John wakes up to a slithery surprise in his bed.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they all belong to their respective creators.

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~ Serpent Surprise

John was waking up on his back, feeling warm and relaxed with a spectacular feeling against his morning erection. A rubbing and moving sensation that felt too delicious against him to ignore. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned; blinking the remnants of sleep away, he noticed his blanket was rising before him and let confusion cloud his face. The rubbing sensation, he now felt thinly concentrated along the length of his body. Realization happened upon him as soon as he saw the purple forked tongue followed by the head of the snake. Fear gripped him, forcing a flash of memory, back to his mind.

"_Oh God! I've been bit!"_

"_Shit! Don't move! Don't fucking move! The venom will circulate faster if you do. Calm down! Did any one see what kind of snake that was?!"_

"_You've got to help me doc! Please!"_

"_Fucking shit! Private, undo your fly and zip, I'm going to drop your trousers and pants to suck the venom out."_

"_Doc?!"_

"_Just do it! You're letting the poison linger!"_

A sudden hiss brought John back to the present, he tried to calm his breathing, so he won't jostle the snake above him too much. In all honesty, this was the first event, since living with Sherlock, where he woke up to a damned heart attack in the flat, on the verge of crying but too scared to do so. The snake, which John identified as a cobra, with its upper body raised upright, was silently observing him and taking in the environment. John knew it was a bad idea, a really bad idea but he was desperate with the right amount of internal panic to not think straight. He slowly stretched out his arm for his phone, his thumb shaking in his hand as he managed to dial Sherlock's number. John then slowly brought the phone to his ear, stopping only when the Cobra did a quick flare up of its hood.

"John?" went the tinny phone voice of Sherlock.

John gathered up all the courage he could in that moment, forcing him self to not let his voice shake and tremble with fear.

"Get your fucking arse up here now!" he violently whispered, Sherlock heard panic either way.

John heard footsteps coming up the steps a few seconds later.

"Careful John, they can smell fear." Sherlock said, his voice carrying before he entered the room.

"Would get this fucking dinosaur away from me!?" he whispered a little louder, being mindful of the snake on his chest.

"Come here Charlotte, John's a friend, not breakfast." Sherlock pulled back John's blanket and handled the snake with both hands, not once flinching when it hiss in protest, surprisingly enough the snake didn't bite Sherlock, which confused John but he didn't care to ask about it until later.

John immediately rolled out of bed, on to the floor to let out a wail, sounding in between a fearful scream and hysterical laughter

"Breakfast! What the fuck?! Charlotte?! You name her!?"

"Well, she has to have a name, she's my pet."

John blinked as he rose to his feet, not entirely sure if what he heard was true but continued anyway.

"She's.. she's your pet?! Since when do you have a pet and name them. You can't even remember Lestrade's first name!"

"Of course I do, it's Gary."

"Greg!"

Sherlock scoffed, arranging the snake more comfortably in his arms.

"Bah, he's Lestrade, I don't need to know him by any other name."

"Ok, we're getting off topic here. How long has she, been here?"

Sherlock paused for a bit, John read the tell tale signs of the man thinking back when those pale blue eyes went to the top left corner.

"Oh… I think a day after you left for your conference."

"She's… she's been here for two weeks already?"

"Yes."

"And you couldn't enlighten me yesterday when I came home?!"

"Must've slipped my mind." Murmured Sherlock. The disbelief coursed through John, flooding his blood stream and leaving behind rage and terror.

"Slipped your?... Fucking hell Sherlock… Take that beast away from me or so help me God, I'm going to shoot it!"

"John?"

John's face went grim with cold determination.

"One."

Sherlock ran from the room; snake in hand, leaving John to sit on his bed, still playing out the just recent events.

John made his way down the stairs, walking warily and on high alert for the slithery creature and stopped at the bottom landing.

"Ok, before I step into any other place in the flat, where are you keeping that vile creature?" John asked.

"In my room of course."

"Right, ok… good. Is she in her cage, tank, whatever?"

"Tank? No, I have her."

"Fuck! Can you put her away, please."

"She simply wants to get to know you-

"Sherlock!"

"Fine."

John heard Sherlock get up from his chair to put the snake away, and then he tiptoed through the flat, being extra careful and into the kitchen where he made tea.

Sherlock came back into the living room, noticing John was on his own laptop, to sit back on his chair, positioning his hands in his thinking pose. As the silence grew, it began to irritate John, knowing that Sherlock was deducing the recent morning events and wondering how to go about avoiding what the detective might tell him.

"Whatever you're thinking, just drop it."

"It is curious about your fear of simple beings."

"Tch."

"Now, given you're religious history, being raised Catholic, I can see a fear of snakes being a misplaced fear for… entities of more sinister and dark forces, but that's not it."

"Fine then, deduce away. Why am I afraid of snakes?"

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk, ready to impress.

"It's only too easy John, you just said it. Snakes, although the cobra is easily identifiable, you said snakes, generalizing all snakes, that's one. Now, where in this wide world is it possible for you to have encountered a snake? Afghanistan, obviously, that's two. Now for the fear, due to your reaction of Charlotte's morning greeting and due to your threat of shooting her when I held her, I can safely deduce that, indeed you had an encounter with a snake, but you weren't bitten; some one close to you was and someone else shot the snake but you made a personal vow that should you ever encounter a snake that you'll avoid getting bitten at all cost and, if you're gun is handy, you'll shoot it, that's three."

John stared at him for a full minute, indecisive about reacting positively or negatively. With a sigh, he sat back in his chair, going for the positive response.

"You're right, that was too easy."

Sherlock smiled in contentment,

"Care to tell me what happened?"

"You just deduced what happened!"

"Yes but you're quiet the raconteur and I'm bored, entertain me."

"Alright, fine."

Sherlock got comfortable in his chair, ready for a story from John's army days.

"It was a private in my unit, we were under fire and rushed into an abandon home. We all positioned our selves to fire back until the private screamed. We all turned to see why and there was the bloody snake, just pulling its teeth out from the private's bum. It was ready to attack another solider until it was shot, we've must've entered its territory. I can't believe I still remember the sound it made too. A sorta sssssshhhhhhhhh sound."

"Echis, or commonly known as the saw-scaled viper."

"Yeah, thanks for that. Damn walking encyclopedia."

Sherlock brushed off the remark, going straight to the interesting information.

"You mentioned the snake bit the private's bum."

"…" John pierced his lips together, damning his luck that Sherlock would catch that part.

"What did you do?"

"I did what any medical professional would do in the moment." John replied off handily, sending a dismissive tone.

"Which was?"

In the lowest and fastest way, John said,

"…isuckedoutthevenom."

"Was that even English?"

"I sucked out the venom from his arse, ok?" Hissed John, doing a brilliant impression of the snake, Sherlock mused idly but he stood silent only showing an amused smile on his face.

"Doesn't mean I'm gay."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at John's statement.

"Tch, of course it doesn't. Don't be so defensive and mundane."

"Just thought I should reinforce that."

"John-"

"And just how did you even get a snake?!" the short man bristled.

"I have my sources."

"Why?"

"I wanted to test venom on blood and muscle samples for a case, but I grew an attachment to her and well, she's here. We have a connection, they're often misunderstood, as am I."

"But that's a fucking cobra!" John burst out

"Brilliant deduction."

Sherlock notice John narrowing his eyes, and for a small moment, Sherlock thought John was going to announce his moving out, his heart catching in fear. John only started typing on his blog, with only a quick glance at Sherlock,

"If it bites you in the arse, I'm not sucking out the poison."

"My, how unprofessional John, but she'd never do that, she's a sweetheart."

"Uh huh, right."

Some of the days that followed went as such, with John slowly getting used to the presence of the snake.

One afternoon, John climbed the steps with some pep in his step, enjoying the music Sherlock was producing on the violin; only to immediately stop on the landing when he saw the snake on the coffee take, upright and hood flared as it swayed side to side. Automatically reacting, _Nope_, he turned about and went down the stairs and left the flat, deciding to come back later.

Jon was reading on the couch when he saw the beast slithering near the fireplace.

"Oh God, Sherlock no! Put her away!"

"Why? She's so quiet, you'll hardly notice her."

"Hardly notice- she's fucking huge! She's as long as you are tall!"

"She's still a baby at 6 feet, their average length ranges from 9ft to 13ft."

"13? Fucking 13ft?! Are you serious!?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"A 13ft snake, is **not** going to stay in that tank in your room! The bitch is going to escape! And I'll be the first one she eats!"

"John, just try to be the same room as her, she's really gentle when you show no fear and I've made sure she's fed so she won't need to hunt. Just try it, at least once."

"I can't believe this."

John adapted to being in the same room with the cobra, but at a distance. Until Sherlock needed help measuring her length and asked John to take notes.

"She grew, at least another foot, good girl."

"Christ, she's 7ft now."

The snake slithered up John's side and around his shoulders and he stood frozen in his seat.

"Easy John, she just wants to share some of your body warmth."

"Then why isn't she snuggling with you?"

"I'm not the one wearing warm jumpers."

"Fuck."

One day, John came home per usual, taking off his coat and a packet from the coat, asking about the snake's current location in the flat.

"Where is she?"

"Gone." Sherlock replied from the kitchen.

"Gone? Wait, you got rid of her? I thought she was your pet?" John asked, meeting him and pulling out the kettle to make tea. Sherlock, experimenting on the table, complete with documents, petri dishes, and microscope in organized chaos.

"No, I lied, I was just watching her for Mrs. Hudson's nephew, he came by earlier to pick her up and all her things. Do you have the developed photographs?"

"Yeah here." John handed the packet over, mind slowly coming to terms with the recent news.

Sherlock opened the packet, quickly pulling out a stack of photographs and shuffling through them.

"So… just like that she's gone?"

"Yes."

John thought back to the last month and a half, smiling bitterly as he set up the water to boil and then leaned back against the counter; arms folded over his chest and looking, well, glaring at his flat mate.

"I ought to punch you."

"Were you getting attached? She really was a sweetheart." Sherlock smirked

"Just shut up, let me relax. No more snake in my life… Oh god, thank you!"

"I'm not God but you're welcome."

John glared at the man again, the room quiet except for the shuffling of photos in Sherlock's hands. John watched him; he'd shuffle through the photos, stopping at some of them to gently smile.

"What are those, a case?"

"Here, take a look." Sherlock handed over the photos, noticing how John flinched at seeing the top one; it was a photo of Charlotte. The next one was a close up of Charlotte's head, the camera taking in every detail of her face. It was the next photos that made John blanch and glare white-hot daggers at Sherlock.

"You son of a bitch."

Sherlock smiled smugly, knowing exactly which photo John was looking at. It was a photo of John sleeping peacefully in his bed with the snake; Charlotte had her forked tongue on John's cheek.

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Author's Note: Done with the lovely inspiration from Namara-Ashina from Tumblr, thank you dearie, this was fun to write. Review if you want.


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